Spirit of Games
by Kain01able
Summary: The world is quite an magical place. Miracles and unbelievable mysteries can occur constantly. Like say, their being more than just one warden. And one of them has the power of 'The Gamer'. While the rest have their own gifts. Welcome to Threads, were things just got a bit more interesting. Let us play this game to end all games. (Revamp In The Making)
1. Game Reset

The land, if it can still be called such, lies lifeless and smoldering in ruin. The dead litter the ground, disfigured and mutilated beyond recognition. A horrifying image that has no place in the land of the living.

All is silent and dead.

Until a soft noise comes along from nowhere. At first it is soft, no louder than a wispier. And then it proceeds to get louder.

As it dose, a light that was not their previously, appears. Growing in size as the sound dose the same in volume, the light begins to expand.

Not to long after, the light is as big as a castle, taking the shaped of a large dome. The soft murmur of sound had changed to a thunderous cry, shaking the land with its power.

And it stops.

Both the light and the sound simply... cease to exist. As if nothing had taken place not to long ago. Everything was exactly the same.

...Except for one thing.

A lone figure can be seen, out of place with the scene before them. It could be said that they look upon what lays before them with mild curiosity.

The figure had suddenly sprung int existent moves forward. Without touching the ground.

As they walk, so to speak, words suddenly come forth. More than likely from the only stranger their.

The words sound... cheerful.

 _I must say, Life in the fade can be rather dull._

 _There is a plethora of things to do yes, but..._

 _Its not as fun as what lies on the **other side.**_

 _Past the Veil, as they call it, where in the mortals lie._

The words take a bitter turn in tone

 _Most of my brethren are confused by it, some even outright despise the land beyond._

 _Their world is stagnant, the air biter, chaotic and without justice._

 _The natives are naive, greedy fools who will do anything for self gain, even believing a simple lie for power._

 _Vengeful_ _._

 _Petty._

 _Heartless._

 _Stupid._

 _Its a world of hardships and unfairness._

Once again, the words are cheerful.

 _I could only ever smile at their words._

 _(At least that's what I believe I would do, since i do not particularly have a mouth to speak of._ _But I digress.)_

 _Because that is where in I took great interest in these beautiful creatures._

 _They forge ahead, step by step as the earth beneath them tries to swallow them whole. Carving their own destiny and place in life with so little power to do so in their hands._

 _Some are triumphant, finding success and rewards for their efforts._

 _Others fall short of victory, paying dearly for it. With their lives even._

Changing once again, it speaks in somber words.

 _I will admit it though. Not all have the spark I speak of._

 _At some point, there were many._

 _Oh, the stories they could tell, the hardships they faced.  
_

 _It was fun watch as they so expertly played the game of Life._

 _They managed to entertain me for so long._

 _But alas, along with the decline in life, so have their numbers_

 _The ones I found o so interesting are dwindling away, one by one._

During this inner monologue, the land began to change the further along the creature progressed. Red crystals began to protrude from the ground. Tears floated in the middle of the air. Boys where beginning to maintain their shape. Still disfigured, although it looked more like it was intended rather than from disembowelment.

 _The lands are now overrun by some... **disgusting vermin...** known as Darkspawn. _

_Some mineral known as red Lyrium has infested the lands._

 _The Veil is broken._

 _There is nothing but violence and unrestrained slaughter._

 _The Apocalypse is taking place._

 _The mortal population is now for all intents and purposes extinct._

The being stops. In front lies a mountain. A mountain of corpses. Dragons, humans, elves, dwarves, quinary, werewolves, demons, golems, darkspawn, mabari, and so many more. Nothing was spared this defiling display of triumph. Like this sick perversion of life was something to be proud of.

If anyone had been present that was alive, they would have seen the being somehow convey their deep seeded anger. Somehow managing to do so in a featureless form.

Or they would have simply identified the anger and determination that the words had taken.

 _And that... is something I will not allow._

 _But as much power as I have, their is so little to save here._

 _It would be a pointless endeavor._

Silence followed. Nothing, not even the wind made a sound.

The being began to rise into the air.

 _Let us fix that shall we._

One moment, the entirety of Thedas was enveloped in blinding light.

The next, the light vanished. With the world in a far healthier and younger state.

 _Let the games begin._

* * *

Months later

After much searching and traveling, it can be said without a doubt that the entity had found some promising candidates.

Elves, Humans, and even Dwarfs. Although no Quinary. A shame, but nothing harmful. It could be said that their were more than enough to go around. They were a diverse lot as well.

A dwarven criminal, lacking the ability to rise above their standing.

A city elf that new nothing but how to steal and cheat others of their personnel belongings.

A human noble who new nothing of political intricacies and simply satisfied his own selfish desires.

A dalish elf, holding deep seated hatred for shemlings. Blaming them for the nomadic lifestyle of his people.

A dwarf, royal in blood, caring only about the satisfaction of his own huger.

A human mage that could never be bothered to exert himself in any way.

An elven mage that went against the norms, isolating themselves further from their peers.

A mercenary dwarf, focused solely on gold and riches.

Now the only real problem was both a simple one and an impossible one.

 _Who would be blessed by my gifts?_

All of them had the makings of great warriors. Each one held an inner power to change fate and carve out a victory. None of them was less than the other.

Which made the choice all the harder to make.

The entity had been in this predicament on days on end. When ever he came close to making a decision, something would always spring in his mind to dissuade him from choosing. Around and around his thoughts spiraled, never managing to settle at any given moment.

Until he had a bizarre idea.

Why not choose _all_ of them?

The thought brought smile to his face. It was such a wonderful idea.

More players to play the game. More variables to change the flow of the world. More entertainment to be had

It would be perfect.

A proper path set, the creature bestowed his gifts among the unknowing mortals.

What those gifts were exactly, well...

Its best to be surprised by the unexpected wouldn't you say?

* * *

 **I find this idea of a story so appealing, and so infuriating.**

 **Let us see if I am capable of making such a ludicrous plot justice.**

 **( ' v ' ) Wish me luck!**

 **(Apologies for the misspellings)**


	2. The Gamer

**[skills, titles, stat names]**

 **Etc; ( active/passive ) Description**

 **Name - Occupation - Lv000**

* * *

 **Doumar "The Gamer" Level 1**

When your given an all powerful gift, you expect your life to go so much smoother than before. Instead, you have to deal with one ordeal after the other. Considering such 'gifts' basically _force_ the world to give someone the most bizarre amount of luck, Its no surprise the direction their lives will take.

Doumar was one such _g_ _ifted_ individual

* * *

Doumar had been given a unique ability when he was a still a young man. Everything was completely normal about his mangy life. Until one day he woke up to something he would always see from then on.

 **You are well rested. Full HP and EP recovery.**

As would be expected, he should have panicked. A blue box appears from nowhere, directly in your face, without reason? You had either gone insane or were under a mage's spell. Neither of witch was a good situation to be in.

But he didn't. Instead of acting appropriately to such a bizarre setting, Doumar felt completely calm. At worst, he was curious or confused by the box.

Other than being a floating box with black letters, there wasn't anything else remarkable about it. He moved his head, trying to look at it from another angle, and discovered something. Whatever direction he looked, the box followed, staying at the edge of his vision. No matter how fast or where he moved, the blue box always matched his pace. He gave up on losing sight of it after a few minutes of doing this.

Doumar stared at the blue box, reading over and over the words written on it. He was doing his best to understand the meaning behind the message, possibly even discover why it had appeared in the first place. This proved useless, the box never changing anything about itself. Doumar decided, running out of options, to touch it.

Immediately on contact, Doumar managing to physically interact with the box, it disappeared. Thinking this was odd, along with the mysterious box itself, he decided talk to his mother about it.

 _I don't expect her to be of any help, but its probably better to talk about this than keep it to myself._

Steeping into the dinning room, Doumar was proven right. His mother, Kalah, was snoring rather loudly on the kitchen table. _So she_ was _the one making all that noise last night._ Doumar frowned at his mothers current state. She really needed to lay off on the cheap alcohol. He then noticed something else, his look of disappointment turning into a look of puzzlement. Besides being unconscious, she also seemed to be experiencing something just as strange as Doumar was.

 **-** **Alcoholic -  
Kalah Brosca (Lv8) **

These where the words he saw floating above here head. It gave her full name and some strange symbol next. Along with with a one word description about her drinking problem. The letters were blue in color. Other than being just as strange as the box, a specific question came to Doumar's mind. _What dose the (Lv8) mean?_ He had never seen anything like that before. Then again, he never saw floating box's or letters before either. Doumar observed the mysterious words, doing the same thing he did to the blue box earlier.

Before Doumar could ponder anything else about the words further, another box appeared right where the first one had been. And just as his luck would have it, his sister walked into the room.

 **A special skill has been created through a special action.**

"I see our dear mother found the moss wine." She said, clearly disapproving over Kalah's actions. When she had walked in, even with another box suddenly popping into existence, Doumar could see she was in the same position as Kalah.

 **\- Lady in Training -  
Rica Brosca (Lv10)**

Like Kalah, Rica had the same description. Her name and that odd symbol on the right, with what Doumar could guess to be a small description about her. Only this time, the number, along with the overall color, were different. _11? Why is the number higher? And why are her letters green instead of blue? Why has another box appeared? Seriously, what dose it all mean?_ These and many more questions raced through his head.

Fingers were snapped in front of his face, pulling him out of his thoughts. Rica had moved towards Doumar unnoticed, probably trying to speak to him. Having been so distracted by the whole ordeal, he became oblivious to what was happening around him. At least Doumar managed to give a brilliant response soon after.

"Wuh?"

Rica sighed. "I was asking you if you were busy today."

Doumar shook his head, still feeling a bit disoriented by what had been happening the last few minutes since he woke up. He'd rather not involve his sister with what appeared to be a midlife crisis. Especially since she couldn't see the blue box that was covering half her face.

Rica gave him a small smile at his answer. "Good. I managed to get some money off of Beraht. Enough to get you and mom a half decent meal." Reaching into her pocket, Rica pulled out a handful of coins "I only got you 80 bits and a silver, which knowing mother, wont last you two an hour."

Doumar would have been shocked if this was any other day. To others, the amount of money Rica got was basically pocket change. But to a casteless dwarf, it was an unprecedented amount of money. He had enough to deal with already, so he was a bit numb to the money. Rica missinterpreted his lack of a reaction as one of simlpy being left speechless.

"Yes, I know its a lot more than usual. I'll tell you about it later." She grabbed Doumar's hand and gave him the money. "Now I have to get back to Beraht. I'm going to be practicing elf-poetry for today, so I'll be back much latter." Rica turned around and headed for the exit.

She stoped before leaving Doumar's sight. Turning her head to him, Rica gave him a half-hearted smile. "Take care of mother and yourself." She left the house after parting with those words.

Doumar remembered something important after Rica left. He had forgotten to ask her about those words that had been above her head. Then again, she had rushed through wile Doumar was still recovering from the last few minutes. He felt like he could be forgiven a bit because of that.

Doumar eyed the rather considerable amount of money in the palm of his hand. Just staring at it, standing motionless for quite a wile. Then, he simply sighed, bocketing the money without a second thought.

The blue box was still their, floating right where he could see it.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Doumar decided to deal with the box now rather than later. Still not too sure what to do exactly, he reached out to the box. On contact the box changed into another one.

 **Through the use of a keen eye, the skill [Observe] has been created.**

More words he didn't really now the meaning of. Doumar squinted at the words, trying to decipher them in some way.

"What in the Stone's name is [Observe]-"

Before he even finished speaking, the box was replaced by a new one, only this one was green.

 **Dwarven Door  
** **A shabby dwarven made door. It has seen better days, and quite literally hinges on complete disuse.**

After reading what it said, Doumar realized that the box was describing his front door. The box then vanished and was replaced with another, blue like all the ones previously.

 **[Observe] has increased in level.**

Doumar simply stared. He was completely out of his depth. There were unexplained box's appearing, no one else was acknowledging their existence, and he had more money in his pocket than he ever did at any before given time.

Basically, Doumar had no chance of understanding how, why, or even what he was dealing with.

The fact he was so calm was also filling Doumar with worry. He should be panacking. He should be asking for help. He should be finding someone to fix whatever this was. He should-

And just like that, the rising sense of panick inside of him was washed away. He was relaxed and allowed himself to manage things in a logical fashion.

Doumar sighed once again. _It doesn't mater right now. As much as I want to figure out what's going on, getting food is much more important. They seem harmless enough anyway._ With that in mind, Doumar headed for the front door.

Before he got to it though, another blue box appeared.

 **Quest Alert  
Food for the Needy: Obtain a meal for your family  
Success: 100 Exp, ****Increased** **reputation with Rica Brosca**  
 **Failure: Decreased reputation with Rica Brosca and Kalah Brosca  
Accept - Decline**

Doumar was completely lost. _A quest? For getting food?_ Doumar could read, and he was smart enough to understand what exactly the box was saying. He just didn't get what he was supposed to do. _Should I accept? Should I decline?_

He was unsure of which to choose. The possibility of failure frightened him. He wasn't completely sure what reputation was, but he got the distinct impression he didn't want to lose it. Especially if it involved his family. Doumar's finger hovered over the Decline option none the less. Best not to add another burden to himself.

But then a single random thought popped into his head. _I'm still gong to get the food right?_

Doumar was going to get his family something to eat no mater what. There was no doubt about that. The quest was then, by that logic, irrelevant. But if he was doing that regardless, why not accept the quest then? Even if he didn't know what reputation or Exp was, wouldn't it be better to have it simply on principle? _Even if I don't understand what they are, it would be better to have them on hand. Just in case._

Being raised castless, Doumar had learned from an early age that it was usually in his best interest to take anything and everything he could when the opportunity presented itself. You never know when you will ever get to have it if you need it.

Convincing himself it was the right choice, Doumar taped Accept. The box disappeared, quickly followed by another.

 **You have made a wise decision and increased your WIS by 1 point.**

Knowing he didn't have the time to deal with another blue box, Doumar simply tried to exit his house. Prior to leaving though, he took notice that the box was still flouting in front of him.

 _Why is this one still here?_ _All the other box's disappeared not too long after I first saw them_. The metaphorical torch lite up in his head. He remembered that most of the previous box's went away when he touched them. He didn't know how he could forget since he had been doing it not so long ago.

With that new knowledge in hand, Doumar simply swiped that box away and reached for the door handle. Only to be interrupted by another one.

 **You have deduced some important information. Increased WIS and INT by 1 point each.**

Doumar sighed again, brushing away the box. _These things are going to pop up often aren't they?_ As if it were sentient, a new box appeared.

 **You have come to understand some critical information. Increased INT by 1 point.**

* * *

Turn's out Doumar's house hadn't been an isolated incident. All of Dust Town, possibly all of Orzammar from what he could see, was facing the same situation.

Everyone was going about there day as if nothing was wrong, when there clearly was. It was everywhere, there was just no way anyone could miss them. Despite this, no one acted differently.

Seeing as the words weren't acknowledged, Doumar decided it would be best to play along. No need to draw unnecessary attention, especially in Dust Town.

 **You have made a wise decision and increased your WIS by 1 point.**

Doumar simply waved the box away. If he knew what WIS was, he probably would have cared about the box. It was more of an annoyance than anything else right now.

He had to walk pretty far to get some food, so he was given enough time to process what he was seeing. At the very least it reinforced some things that Doumar was contemplating.

The most obvious discovery was that he was the only who could see the words was him. That probably also went for the box's, since Rica hadn't reacted to the one she should have seen in the house. The words were the same all around, giving their names and that other mysterious Lv thing. Above that appeared what Doumar understood to be, more often than not, their occupation. Curiously, the numbers and their color changed from person to person.

Walking through dust town, there seamed to be some diversity between the dwarfs. Children usually had blue names and were at 1. Adults were varied, going up to 10 and had blue, green, or yellow names. Their were a lot of blues, just as many greens, but only a few yellows. As for their occupations, most of them were... underwhelming to say the least. Children didn't have any, up to a point at least. When it was clear that a young one was capable of manual labor, more often than not they had a description. Usually something along the lines of floor scrubber, nug catcher, or... dung cleaner.

Its sad to say the adults weren't better off than the kids. A lot of them had similar jobs, either from Doumar's own personal knowledge or from what he read above their names. If he trusted what they said, at least. So far, they had not given him any reason to doubt them.

But the most interesting thing was when one of Beraht's men walked around a corner.

 **?  
**

Not only was his name and number missing, but the question mark was also orange in color. Walking past Doumar, clad in full leather armor and brandishing a two-handed warhammer on his back. He walked in the same manner everyone with power did. With a swagger to their step and an aura of superiority. Doumar had seen enough people walk the same way. Nobles, a few guards', heck even Beraht himself walked like that.

Although some would have seen it as a vain attitude to have, Doumar felt he was somewhat entitled to act like that. After seeing countless dwarves, it was clear that the nameless dwarf was a cut above the rest. In Dust Town anyway. Being fully equipped to fight didn't really leave any room to argue either. Come to think of it...

 _If he's a completely different color from everyone else, dose having armor and a weapon affect it?_

 **You have deduced some important information. Increased WIS and INT by 1 point each.**

Well that answered that.

Sighing for the hundredth time, Doumar got rid of the box. These things just kept popping up. The entire trip, more and more boxes appeared. Most of them telling him that his INT or WIS was increasing in level. He didn't know what was causing them to appear so much, but he did know it was becoming a pain in the ass. He couldn't take two steps without a new box interrupting him.

On the plus side, he seamed to be getting a lot of points. Again, oblivious to what they actually represented.

Brushing away the box, Doumar went on his merry way. One of Beraht's thugs was around if you hadn't noticed. That usually wasn't a good thing.

* * *

Doumar finally arrived at Orzammar's commons.

The biggest district in Orzammar, the Commons, is the main place for surfacers, dwarves, and other visitors to conduct business in Orzammar. Or visit the Provings since it was directly across from the main entrance to Orzammar. Most of the dwarves in Orzammar who have a caste live here, so it was never empty for one reason or another, even at night.

Which is why Doumar hated coming hear. Not two steps into the Commons and already he felt unwanted. Immediately, everyone who could see Doumar took a look of complete disgust.

How they knew he was castless was beyond him. When he was younger, he had somehow gotten out of the mandatory branding every castless went through soon after birth. Rica told him it was something his unknown father had managed to do. He once asked Kalah for specifics, but she just slapped him for bringing up his father. He was bruised for a few days after that.

Never built up the courage to ask again. Stooped caring after a few years too.

Not whanting to cause any trouble for himself, Doumar had his eyes downcast the entire time. The less threatening he looked, the less likely he would grab someones attention.

As he walked, Doumar's skin crawled at the unrestrained hate being directed at him. Even though most dwarve's simply ignored him, others went out of their way to make it perfectly clear how they felt about castless dwarve's. Sometimes it got to the point where he was actually threatened, physically harmed in some occasions. By the guards or even kids no less.

Thankfully, it wasn't one of those days.

After only a few steps into that cyclone of loathing and hatrid, a countless number of box's appeared.

 **A special skill has been created through a special action.**

 **By using your sixth sense, [Detect Malice] has been created.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

Doing his best to get past the open floodgate of box's, Doumar pondered this new development. _So I can get more than just one of these 'skills'._ _Interesting._

 **You have come to understand some critical information. Increased INT by 1 point.**

But the most noteworthy part of all this was the type of skill [Detect Malice] was. Doumar had obtained it by using his sixth sense? Seamed like an arbitrary way to gain a new ability. If this was one way to gain a skill, one could only wonder the millions of other ways a person could get one. It seemed to be rather to easy as well, like [Observe] was.

Upon mentally thinking of the before mentioned skill:

 **Orcas Grub  
A a rather well know merchants shop, focused mostly on the buying and selling of ingredients meant for cooking. This establishment has a mixed overall reputation. **

It would appear Doumar had reached his destination.

On the far left side of the Commons was a merchants store. Although there were other place's that a castless dwarf could go to get a meal, at the behest of his health and pride anyway, there really was only one place that Doumar could even attempt to get proper food.

Orca's Grub as it was called. Not the fanciest place; in name or looks. But what it lacked in presentation it made up for in product. See, while most Dwarven merchants sold food you could find literately a step away from your home, Orca's Grub had a rather unique lineup. It sold food from the surface. Things like Halla cheese, Druffalo meat, fruits, nuts, and all other sorts of things to eat.

Orca, the owner of Orca's Grub, also had a good reputation among the castless. A good one in the sense that she didn't kick out a castless on site. She sometimes charged high prices, and would call the guards if you looked at her funny or seemed even slightly untrustworthy. Doumar even heard of her personally beating a dwarf half to death after trying to make a move on her. Supposedly, she even took away the dwarfs ability to reproduce.

So over all, she was one of the nicest people Doumar would ever get to meet.

Doumar took a deep intake of breath, mentally preparing himself for what was to come next. This was not going to be a comfortable conversation for him. Doumar wasn't on the best of term's with Orca.

He had tried to steal from her once you see. Now, it wasn't so much that he had stolen from her that was the problem. Enough dwarves had done it that she was, for the most part, indifferent to it. _What_ he had decided steal, on the other hand, had been a... mistake. A rather big one at that.

Needless to say he got caught, getting a beating from the guards in the process. Quite a brutal one at that. Thankfully, Orca had been merciful enough to leave it at that, saving him the trouble by not spending some time in the royal dungeon. He was a bit young at the time, so that had probably been his saving grace. It goes without saying that he wasn't allowed anywhere near the store ever again.

Which was exactly why Doumar was kicking himself up over. He really wished he had a better idea than go buy something to eat from someone who wouldn't sell anything to him.

Not wasting another second less he turn around right then and there, Doumar steeped forward and opened the door.

Besides, their was always the small possibility that Orca had forgotten about him. She couldn't still be pissed about something that had happened years ago.

Walking into the shop, Doumar was still amazed by what he saw, even if it wasn't the first time he had been there. An assortment of food products were littering the entire store, figuratively speaking. In truth, every single item looked painstakingly organized into their own specific sections. On tables where some dried fruits, shelves had spices in jars, and meat could be seen hanging from hooks on the ceiling. It was almost like Orca didn't have enough room to put all of this stuff. Considering the rather stagnat state of Dwarven cuisine, she probably got a lot of business, even if her store was in the Commons.

Probably had to restock on a weakly basis as well. Although that wouldn't explain why she would need so much of-

A cheery voice calls out, breaking through the Doumars inner monologue.

"Welcome to Orcas Grub. You'll find everything and anything you'd want to sink tour teeth into. Drinks, pastries, soups; we've got it all." A dwarven women had appeared in the back of the building, holding a crate full food stuffs. Setting it down on a counter in front of her, she moves it to the side, allowing her to see the potential costumer that had entered her store.

"We even have rare surface delicacies from time to time. Why just today I received a new shipment of Feralden cooki-"

The moment the female dwarfs eyes settled on Doumar, he could almost _see_ the room drop in temperature.

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

...Well at least he had clear understanding of the situation. A clear understanding of just how bad the situation was.

Offhandedly, Doumar could see the Dwarfs name and Lv.

 **-Shop Keeper-  
Orca Tethras (?)**

If it was any other time, Doumar would have probably taken great interest in her rather peculiar floating words. The orange color and missing lv were a strange combination. At the moment, he was preoccupied with the unrestrained killer intent Orca was giving.

Orca was of average height (for a dwarf), brown short hair, caramel eyes, and sported some simple clothing. In short, one could consider Orca harmless. And yet the woman managed to look terrifying all the same. Like some unnatural ability to look like the most dangerous person in the room.

Her face had twisted into one of displeasure, arms crossed in front of her, and a death stare that said 'You will die a most painful death".

"I thought I made it very clear that you were never allowed here again."

May Doumar's ancestors be kind enough to prepare a proper feat for him in the stone. He didn't feel too hopeful about his chances surviving this encounter.

* * *

 **Holly shit, writing is hard! I guess i never understood how much effort went into writing one of these things. Especially if you want to keep some proper storytelling and proper grammar. Also understand why people can have like thirty projects at any given time. There's just so much you wan to write and so little time for it. then other things get in the way of it, like jobs or just lacking of motivation. Gives me a whole new level of respect for people who manage to stay consistent with this stuff while also maintaining a respectable slandered of writing.**

 **Lets hope the next chapter comes soon.**

 **( - w-)7 Wish me luck!**


	3. Into the Deep Roads

Walking through a rather large cavern, Doumar was the only living creature around. He had been so for quite a while, navigating the labyrinth half hazardously and without a proper direction in mind.

He looked to be on high alert, clearly wishing he were somewhere else, and yet still managing to repress the inner fears he had. You see, Doumar was presently located in somewhere he'd better not be. A very dangerous place.

The infamous Deep Roads.

The Deep Roads are a grand network of enormous underground tunnels that once belonged to the dwarven empire, spanning the length and breadth of Thedas. These subterranean highways were works of unparalleled artisan achievement, with centuries of planning and engineering demonstrated in the geometry of their walls. Statues of the Paragons watched over passing travelers, and channels carried a flow of magma that kept the Deep Roads lit and warm.

But instead a fantastical presentation of Dwarven architecture, it became a safe haven for the worlds most infernal creatures.

Darkspawn.

During the First Blight, the dwarves were forced to close the entrances to the Deep Roads, abandoning them to the darkspawn. The entrances still exist, but are all sealed by octagonal steel doors decorated with geometric patterns that may form words or patterns. Because if your going to make a giant metal door, you damn sure will make it look pretty.

From time to time, its opened for a handfull of reasons. People who have been granted access or authorized expeditions. Regular operations conducted by Orzammar's army. Grey Wardens who head to their Calling. New members of the Legion of the Dead who venture into the Deep Roads, where they spend their last days fighting the darkspawn in hopes of redemption.

So it was a real mystery how and why Doumar found himself in such a place.

* * *

 **Earlier**

It had been five minutes since Orca had spoken, the tension in the air growing every second. Doumar wasn't to sure what he could say at the moment. Their probably wasn't anything he _could_ say.

Orca on the other hand seamd to know exactly what she was going to do. Reaching under the counter, never taking her eyes off of Doumar, Orca pulled out a simple dagger.

"The only reason your even able to walk at this very moment is because I asked the gaurds to stop hitting you." Orka begins to inspect the dagger in her hands. It glistens under the torches lights. "I'd thought with a slap on the wrist and a warning, you'd have learned your lesson all those years ago." Her eyes leave the blade and stare down Doumar accusingly.

He tries, and fails, to meet her harsh gaze. Weather in shame or fear, Doumar couldn't tell.

She points the dagger at Doumar, her posture becoming much more threatening than before.

"So I'd like to you tell me why in the Stone's name you thought it was such a good idea to walk into my store."

Doumar simply shifted inplace, inwardly thinking of a way to talk his way out the grave he had dug himself into.

Doumar knew it what it was going to be like, but that didn't mean he was in any way prepared for the whole thing. Really, considering the kind of impression he must have left last time he was here this sort of reaction from was to be expected. Stealing half a days worth of product and an item of untold sentimental value, Doumar had effectively made an enemy out of Orca. Worst part was it wasn't the first crime he had committed in her store.

Speaking of crimes commited, Orca was looking rather impatient. An angry, or in this case angri _er,_ dwarf with a dagger in hand is almost as bad as another with a mug full of ale. So it was in Doumars best interest to keep Orca from getting any more enraged.

Doumar raised both hands in the air, trying to show that he was harmless. "I didn't come hear to steal anything."

Orca's response was harsh and immediate. "Oh really? Because if I recall correctly, that was the exact same thing you said last time. And, do correct me if I'm wrong, it had been a very bad decision on my part to let you walk in that day."

A mocking smile graces her lips, the dagger being suddenly juggled one handed by Orca. "So please be forgive me if I have a hard time believing a _castless_ thug such as yourself."

Doumar couldn't help but flinch at those words. _Doesn't pull any punches dose she?_

At the very least, he seamed to have gotten an opportunity to speak once again.

"I have money. I came by to purchase some of your food."

The smile falls from Orcas face, catching the dagger in her hand at the same time. She stares at Doumar as if he had grown a second head.

Then she begins to laugh uncontrollably, almost dropping the dagger in the process.

Orka was almost crying from laughter, barely managing to speak clearly in the process. With a chuckle she said, "The day you of all people is willing to pay for something is the day I lose in a duel." With a smirk, she waves offhandedly towards Doumar. "But hey, far be it from me to turn away someone with coins in their pocket. At least, if you actually have the 'money' on hand."

Her lack of faith was managing to irritate Doumar quite a bit. He was so ready to rub it into her face all the money he actually had. Even if it wasn't much it was more than she would have expected him to have.

He reached for pouch in his pocket.

And found it empty. He checked the other, thinking he simply checked the wrong one. Also empty. At this point, Doumar was frantically patting himself down searching for the now missing pouch.

After a few minutes of this, Doumar had to accept the horrible truth. The pouch was gone. He didn't have a coin to his name.

"Humph. Thought so. **"**

All while he was alone with a potentially murderous dwarf.

Looking back to Orca, Doumar could see her face was serious once again. Even looking a bit apathetic at this point.

"As funny of a joke that was, you've wasted enough of my time. Leave my store." She turns around, indicating the conversation was all but finished on her end.

Any thought process pertaining to were his money went disappeared instantly. The situation had gone to the absolute worst case scenario.

"Wait, I reall-" Mid sentence, Doumar was silenced by a dagger flying past his head and sinking into a hanging piece of meat near him. The underlining thought that Orca could have struck him down from all the way on the other side of the room was proven right.

Orka was facing him once again, arm stretched out after throwing the small blade in Doumar's direction.

"I. Said. Leave."

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

Correction. _This_ was the worst case scenario.

 _OK Doumar, calm down. She hasn't killed you yet. Theirs still hope here. Just try not piss her off anymore._

Doumar takes a deep breath.

He couldn't leave.

Although there were many options still left for him to get food, at the moment, this was the best and _only_ option. Doumar didn't need to pay for food since he could just walk out and steal it from any of the shops around Orzammar. But it wasn't going to be easy, not any more at least. Everyone in the Common's had already seen him, putting all the guards on high alert for the moment. Even if he somehow managed to nab something underneath everyone's nose, he would only be able to get away with very little food. Or a lot food that not even a darkspawn would eat.

Neither was a favorable option.

Mustering up his courage, Doumar took a step forward.

And immediately took a step backwards.

Orka had thrown another dagger, impaling the ground were Doumars foot had been.

"Are you deaf!? Get out before I throw the next one at your skull!" Just so their was no room for doubt, Orka pulled another pair from seemingly out of nowhere.

 _The things I do out of love. If I survive this, Rica damn well better appreciate what I went through just for some stale bread._

Not backing down, Doumar spoke out. His voice was surprisingly calm.

"I need some food."

"Well then go steal it from someone else's shop!" The next dagger slipped past his arm and into a table next to him. Doumar didn't flinch, even if the blade had clearly cut his arm.

"I'll pay for it."

Orca reared back her arm, fully intent on actually hitting Doumar dead on this time. "How!?"

Doumar had to think for a second. Then responded unsurely, "Um... a job maybe?"

And surprise surprise, it worked.

Mid swing, Orca's stopped moving. Her face was one of confusion. As if he had just grown _another_ second head from nowhere.

Droping her arm to her side she stares at Doumar intently. It was starting to make him a bit uncomfortable after some time.

Then Orca asked a rather odd question.

"Why are you so determined?"

Doumar was taken aback by this. Not so much by the question itself, but rather that she couldn't see his obvious, at least in his eyes, reasoning behind everything he did.

"For my family."

She didn't respond to that. So Doumar continued.

"Everything I've ever done is for them. So I'll do whatever is needed of me for them. If I have to steal, fight, or beg just so they can live a little longer, I will do it." He looks down. In obvious shame. "Even if I throw away my pride and morals."

Orca remained silent, letting Doumar finish his speech for whatever reason. Rather, she had a far off look in her eyes. As if she was remembering an important event in her life.

Pulling herself back to the present, she once again meets Doumar's gaze. And for the second time that day, he witnessed something truly unbelievable.

Orca gave him a genuine, albeit a small one, smile.

No smugness, scorn, or any form of coy expression on her face.

Other than his sister and his mother, no one had ever looked at him like that.

Putting one hand on her hip, the other twirled the other with the dagger in her hand expertly.

"Well, if your sincere about it, I just might have something for you to do."

Now Doumar was the speechless one. He never in a million years would he have expected anyone, Orca of all people, to say something like that to him. May be the first time someone actually offered him a job.

Orca stopped spinning the blade on her fingertips and slammed it into the counter.

Reaching under the counter, Orca pulled a leather book out instead. Opening it, she began to search for something in particular. When she spoke again, her demeanor was cold once again.

"Well would you look at that. You seem to be in luck today. I seam to be a little low on Nug meat." Closing the book, Orca walks through a doorway behind her. Leaving Doumar the only one the room.

It took him a minute to realize that she had just asked him to go hunt nugs.

Not wasting another moment, Doumar ran out of the store to go compleat his all important task.

Literaly seconds later, Orca came back.

"You probaily don't know where to find thease small criters, so its probably in your best intrest know where to look. You'l also need something to cary the little guys back, so I brought-"

She finally realized Doumar was no longer there.

* * *

"Well, that went far better than expected." Doumar said as walked away from Orca's Grub.

Doumar was just ecstatic at the bizarre turn of events. Not only had he survived an impossible situation, he actually found a way to get some possibly descent food.

Maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all.

And the the blue boxes came back with a vengeance.

 **A special skill has been created through a special action.**

 **A special skill has been created through a special action.**

 **A special skill has been created through a special action.**

 **A special proficiency has been created through a special action.**

 **By shear force of will, [Bravery] has been created.**

 **By having someone agree with you, [Negotiation] has been created.**

 **Through proper use of [Negotiation], [Barter] has been created.**

 **Through proper use of [Negotiation], [Persuasion] has been created.**

 **You have come out on top with the odds staked against you, increasing your LUK by 1.**

 **Quest Alert!  
Nug Hunting: Acquire a minimum of 3 nug carcasses.  
Success: 50 exp for every nug captured, Food.  
Failure: Death, [Starved] status, or sever ingury.  
Accept - Decline**

Getting rid of those box's was a nightmare.

But at the very least Doumar had learned some new skills, and earned a quest for that matter. Although the proficiency thing was news to him. Just as much as LUK was.

Doumar only shrugged when he saw them. Still don't know what everything else meant, what was one or two more mysteries on his plate?

After pressing accept, Doumar went to go and do exactly as the quest stated. Go nug hunting

* * *

 _Why in the stones name is this happening to me!?_

For the past few hours Doumar had been searching up and down Orzammar looking for them.

And there wasn't a single one anywhere.

Not in the Commons. Not in Dust Town. Not even in the garbage.

Doumar had gotten quite desperate at that point.

Add to the fact that he had more boxs popping up didn't help.

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

The same damn message just kept appearing over and over again. It was irritating beyond measure. Even when they slowed down after a while, it just made it worse when they suddenly appeared without warning.

At this point Doumar was irritated beyond belief.

 **You detect high levels of malice.**

 **[Detect Malice] has increased in level.**

And as luck would have it, someone else was.

Doumar sighed for what could have been the hundredth time that day. He had finally reached his limit. No amount pointless scrambling was getting him anywhere. After spending about half a days time trying to find a stupid nug, he had come up empty handed. Having all the citizens trying to kill him with their death stares didn't help to improve his mood.

He had run out of options.

He needed to find nug. That was the undeniable truth. So he made a decision he was more than likely going to regret. If he lived through it that is. If he remembered correctly, there was one other place you could find a nug.

The Deap Roads.

Shaking his head at his own insanity, Doumar headed for the infamous lands.

* * *

And that was how Doumar made the dumbest decision in his life.

As much as the citizens of Orzammar liked to boast the all but impenetrable defenses they had, it wasn't absolute. Sure, the main entrance was locked down tight, but that didn't mean their were ways around it. The occasional earthquake, cave in, or even simply mining in the wrong direction opened new pathways into the Deap Roads every day.

Usually, these passageways were either closed up or guarded, so as not to let any darkspawn slither their way into Orzammar. But they couldn't find every single leak that sprung up. More times than not children were the ones to find them. And Doumar knew of one in particular.

Earlier in life, before Rica and Doumar had to grow up and work for a living, they did what any youngling would do. Explore.

With childish curiosity there to spur them forward, it wasn't a surprise when they actually found a secret entrance. Looking into it for the first time, Rica and Doumar had assumed it was a small cavern underneath their home in Dust Town. Their had been quite a few times were they had delved deeper and ended up finding more and more dwarven architecture the deeper inside they went. Its how he knew it lead to the Deep Roads.

When his mother found out about it, she slapped him silly and boarded up the hole. He never could pry it open after that. Soon enough he stooped trying and forgot about it.

But he was a lot stronger now. Or that's what he had thought. The metal patchwork was proving rather difficult to open oddly enough

"Hnnn!"

Their had been a loose end on the metal board, so Doumar had been concentrating on that particular end to pry it off.

"Come on!"

It bent slightly and creaked but not much else. Essentially locked in place. Having done this for some time, Doumar was just about ready to give up. He was just pointlessly tiring himself out. He clearly wasn't strong enough to pull it off barehanded.

And then...

 **Through continuous strenuous effort, your STR has increased by 1.**

 **Through continuous physical effort, your VIT has increased by 1.**

The metal sheet bent easily. Unprepared for this, Doumar fell flat on his ass.

Rubing his now sour bottom, he looked up at the two new box's. After reading them, he sighed.

 _Really getting tired of these things._ _They don't even **do** anything! They seam to appear out of nowhere just to bother me! Wish I knew why just so I could stop them from appearing!_

Seeing red, Doumar got back up and started to pull on the metal board once again. Unbeknownst to him, it took less energy and less effort to do so. Not much of a change, but a change nonetheless.

The same box's reappeared.

 **Through continuous strenuous effort, your STR has increased by 1.**

 **Through continuous physical effort, your VIT has increased by 1.**

He was just a little stronger. The sheet bent even more. Once again he let go. Once again he pulled.

 **Through continuous strenuous effort, your STR has increased by 1.**

 **Through continuous physical effort, your VIT has increased by 1.**

He could pull a little longer. By now the nails were sticking out of the wall. His palms were bleeding, cut into by the metals jagged edges.

 **Through continuous strenuous effort, your STR has increased by 1.**

 **Through continuous physical effort, your VIT has increased by 1.**

With a loud pop, Doumar was left holding a thin piece of rusted medal with nails through it. The passage was open once again.

Doumar whooped for joy, reflexively squeezing the the metal in his hands. Flinching from the sudden pain, he dropped it.

Finally taking in the state his hands were currently in, he could only grimace at what he saw. The cuts were thin, luckily, but there were quite a few of them.

 _Maybe trying to do this barehanded **wasn't** such a good idea. Well, the damage's been done so I might as well try to bandage myself up._

Doumar headed back to his house.

At the very least it wasn't too far. He was lucky enough the secret passageway was literally a step from home. It was a bit difficult since he had to clime over the metal wall next to it. With the way his hands were, he'd rather not make the wound bigger in the process.

A lot of awkward climbing later, he was back inside his home disinfecting his hands and patching himself up.

"Wazz tthat..? Did ssomeone break into my house again!?"

 _Oh ancestors no. Don't do this to me, now of all times especially._

Turning around, Doumar was face to face with the second person on the list of people he didn't want to be caught alone with. The first being Beraht. The second... his mother.

Kalah was standing in the doorway, hand on her head and a dagger in the other. She looked to be in pain. Probably a hangover from all the alcohol she has been drinking.

"Oy you little shit! We got nothin' here you want, so scram before I put a knife in you!"

Doumar rolled his eyes. _Its a dagger mother. I've tolled you a thousand times._

Standing up, Doumar slowly approaches Kalah with his hands raised. "Mother, its me. Doumar." Before he can reach her though, Kalah half hazardly swipes at him with the dagger.

"Get back! Don't know what trick you be trying to pull, but Ill have none of it!"

 _Damn. Guess I'll need to talker down instead. Preferably before she hurts herself... or me for that matter._

"Look mother. Its me, your son. Don't you recognize me?" Kalah's face scrunchies up for a second, trying to really get a look at him, past the migraine and alcohol she was full of. She doesn't but the dagger down, but it did stop her from attacking Doumar again.

He takes a tender step in Kalah's direction. The dagger lowers slighlty.

"Your just a little groggy from the moss-wine you've been drinking. Why don't you take little nap on the bed?" Kalah slightly nods her head in agreement. Doumar keeps walking forward.

Doumar give's her the bigest smile he can manage and tenderly asks, "Can you give me the dagger first? Wouldn't want you to cut yourself by accident."

Now directly in front of her, hand outstretched and open, Doumar patiently waits for the dagger. Without saying another word, Kalah slowly places the dagger in his hand. After its no longer in her grasp Kalah stumbles past Doumar towards the aforementioned bed. Not a second later does Doumar hear the familiar sound of a body hitting the cheap and torn bead sheets.

Doumar releases the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He looks down at the dagger. His face openly expressing his inner sadness.

It was funny really.

He could deal with malnourishment. He could deal with death threats from strangers. He could deal with unexplained box's appearing from nowhere.

 **[Persuasion] has increased in level.**

Speaking of witch... although it was a very interesting box, Doumar wasn't really in the proper mindset to even acknowledge it. Even if it was a simple matter to make it disappear.

But he couldn't deal with this kind of situation. Not like everything else anyway.

Because deap down, on very fundamental part of his being, he just wasn't strong enough.

All the other problems he faced could be fixed in some fashion. He could fight, talk, steal, or even kill his way out of any situation.

But the one right before him, when it involved something as complex as what his mother was going through, was beyond his realm of understanding.

He ended up hating himself because of that. He just couldn't stand being unable to help.

Shaking his head, Doumar pockets the dagger.

 _I can save the pity party for later. I still need to go hunt a few nugs down. Its late enough already._

With those thoughts in mind, Doumar left his home as quietly as possible. Didn't want to go and wake up Kalah at that very moment.

And with that it was off to the Deep Roads. May his ancestors have mercy on his soul.

* * *

 **Now**

Several hours after arriving in the Deep Roads, Doumar finally saw his first nug.

And a deapstalker.

Wasn't Doumar just the luckiest dwarf around?

* * *

 **Have to say the level of interest people have taken into this story is quite amusing. Not the first piece of work I've ever posted on this website, but it definitely has the fastest number of readers. I hope to live up to the expectations.**

 **( 'u ') Have a fabulous day!**


	4. First Encounter

**Questions will be answered at the bottom.**

 **Please Read & Review if you like. Theirs always room for improvement as they say.**

 **['w']b**

* * *

How exactly was Doumar so unlucky? Running into a pack of deepstalkers on the first day is just so unbelievably unfortunate.

When you think about it realistically though, it made perfect sense. He was in the Deep Roads. The Deep Roads are a dangerous place. What exactly had he been expecting to happen? A leisurely stroll through darkspawn infested tunnels?

Not running into danger was far too naive of him. But back to the problem at hand...

Encountering the pack of deepstalkers, who were chasing a pack of nugs, had been a bit of a shock to Doumar. He had stood there surprised, simply watching as the deepstalkers cornered the nugs and swiftly killed them. Looking up above the Deepstalker's heads as they feasted on their kill provided another interesting bit of information.

 **\- Critter -**  
 **Deepstalker Newborn (Lv2)**

 **\- Critter -**  
 **Deepstalker Newborn (Lv2)**

 **\- Critter -**  
 **Deepstalker Newborn (Lv2)**

 **\- Critter -**  
 **Deepstalker Newborn (Lv3)**

All of their words were yellow. Their lv's were far lower than an adults and yet their colors weren't green or blue. Probably a bad sign. Probably better to leave them alone. Probably a smart idea to run like hell.

But no, Doumar wasn't smart enough to do these things. Because he was so mesmerized by the whole situation, so it was a perfect time to just stand there and [Observe] them like some-

 **Deepstalker Newborn**  
 **No more than a few days old, this deepstalker youngling is out hunting with its siblings for the first time. Still new to the world, they lack experience and physical maturity. Searching for nourishment has proven moderately difficult. They may still be a tad hungry. Enough to attack a certain dwarf.**

 **[Observe] has increased in level.**

 **Codex Entry Unlocked!**

 **Codex Entry: Deepstalkers**

For the love of- this isn't the time for these damn box's to appear!

Waving his hands angrily through the box's, Doumar quickly rid himself of the blue irritations. And accidentally got the attention of the deepstalkers in the process. Scaled like a lizard but with the head of a worm, the deepstalkers turn their eyes towards Doumar, blood and meat spilling forth from their mouths.

 **You detect malice.**

 **Now entering Combat!**

 **Quest Alert  
** **Survival  
** **Don't let yourself get killed.  
** **Success: 100 Exp, Loot.  
** **Failure: Death**

Well at least he would get an indication of when there was a fight going on. Wish his mortality wasn't so easily pointed out though.

Random thought. Deepstalkers are sometimes domesticated. Why? Because they can be viscous little fuckers that's why. This fact was proven when they charged at Doumar without a second thought.

Doumar did a full 180 and ran like his life depended. Which it did. As such, Doumar was doing his damnedest to stay alive, running around corners at random to somehow lose the unholy creatures. It wasn't working. The only thing he was doing was maintaining a moderate distance between himself and his unrelenting hunters. A distance that was progressively becoming shorter and shorter as the Doumar ran deeper into the Deep Roads.

During one particularly sharp turn, Doumar slipped and fell into a kneeling position with one leg sticking out beneath him. A leg he had almost lost if he hadn't jumped out of the way of a deepstalkers lunge. These things were nothing if not persistent.

Picking himself back up as fast as he could Doumar kept running. That little slip was all they needed though, as they were now disturbingly close now. His luck only got worse from there. Because a few turns later, he found himself at the edge of a cliff.

It wasn't much of cliff. Only a few meters in depth. Not enough to kill someone, probably, but enough that it would be an inconvenience. If Doumar fell from this height, it went without question he would be breaking something in the process.

Shit.

Doumar had turned to backtrack into a more favorable direction. The deepstalkers, sadly, had other plans. At this point they had fully caught up to him.

They looked a little tired. They must not be used to such physically demanding things yet. Unfortunately, Doumar wasn't faring any better.

The deepstalkers closed in on Doumar slowly, effectively surrounding him. Except for one who stayed in the back. It was the one with the highest lv of the four. It was a blessing because at the moment Doumar would only have to deal with three deepstalkers. Still, Doumar would have to deal with three deepstalkers. Considering he had near nonexistent battle experience, he was still at a disadvantage. The occasional bar brawl and back alley tussle could only get you so far in a real life or death battle.

For a split second, Doumar entertained the idea of chancing the fall off the cliff behind him. He immediately shot it down for a number of reasons. Even in the rather small chance that he survived the ordeal, he more than likely would have left himself crippled in the process. Assuming that, beyond all odds, he could still move after all was said and done, there were still other things that crawled in the Deep Roads he would have to contend with.

An injured and unskilled dwarf in the Deep Roads was just easy pickings for any predator that came along.

One of the more brave critters lunged, jumping into the air with the intent to kill. Weather it was luck, an accident, or his ancestor's blessing he did not know. But for all intents and purposes, Doumar had successfully dodged the incoming attack. He had thrown himself to the ground. Just barely avoiding the deepstalker by a hairs breadth.

Leaving the poor creature to basically jump from a very high ledge. The sound of its screeching as it fell and the audible splat that came afterwards were all a clear indication that it had been a quick death.

That... had been a bit of a surprise. He had expected a much more demanding encounter. Instead of one of them killing themselves. As unintentional as it may have been. A hiss brought back his attention to the matter at hand.

Slowly, Doumar picked himself up while trying to come up with a plan at the same time. He wasn't skilled enough to avoid them like he just did a second time. Even if he was, the same trick wasn't likely to work more than once. From what he could see, the remaining deerstalkers were being far more careful than they had been previously.

They remained standing where they were, studding Doumar for any openings. So for the moment Doumar had earned a breather. Not that it helped.

Try as he might, Doumar couldn't think of a way around his current situation. He had his back to a cliff, a fall that would kill him regardless if he survived the initial pone shattering result. While in front of him he was cut off by killer bipedal worms.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

If he had a weapon of some kind sure he could attempt to fight them off. Like an ax, mace, or heck a dagger would have been useful at this point. But at the moment, all Doumar had on him was the clothes on his back and-

Wait. What about the dagger he had taken from his mother? He didn't remember giving it back or leaving it at the house. So the only place it could be was on his person. Quickly, while also trying no to antagonize the deepstalkers, Doumar searched his pockets for the dagger he hoped beyond hope that he still had.

It was only after the third time that he was completely sure that he did not in fact have the dagger on his person.

 _No._

 _Nonononono._

 _NO!_

As Doumar was dealing with the implications of losing the only thing that could have saved him, the deepstalkers had been closing in. Seeing him drop his guard so carelessly was the perfect moment to strike. But rather than leap or attack him by themselves, two of them decided to strike at the same time.

It was a second too late when Doumar realized what was happening.

One came at him from his left, trying to bite his hand. He pulled his hand back fast enough to have the little vermin miss him. His hand was still intact, but it let the other one push him to the ground from the front.

The vicious creature sunk its sharp teeth into Doumar's neck. To say it was painful was like calling a burning furnace warm. It wasn't wrong per say. But it wasn't all that accurate either.

Now this was bad. Having his throat ripped out was a very unpleasant experience to have. When the second deepstalker bit his leg, it was just the icing on the cake. Doumar's yells were landing on death ears. If the things eating him actually had ears to speak of.

Doumar struggled, doing his best to get the vermin off of him. Grabbing the one on his chest with his hands while he tried to kick the one on his leg away. It wasn't going along too well. These deepstalkers had strong jaws.

His mind was racing, fighting the pain. He didn't know what he was going to do. These vermin were holding him down while viciously ripping skin from bone. Even if he somehow got them off, he'd be too weak and too injured to fight back.

His mind buried under a heavy fog of fear, pain, and desperation, he did what any other person in his position would do. He called out for help.

"Someone! Anyone! [Help] me!"

If he had been in a regular state of mind, he'd no doubt understand the futility of what he was doing. He was in the Deep Roads, far from any semblance of society. And even if there where dwarfs close enough to hear him, it wouldn't have been the helping kind.

The only one's within earshot were the Deepstalkers themselves or his ancestors. Neither of which were even paying attention to what he was saying from what Doumar could tell.

Well, at least that he thought anyway. Turns out that there was something else that could lend its support. Instead of divine intervention of any kind, his pleas were answered by a box.

 **Help Menu**

 **Ailments  
Buffs  
** **Class  
** ** **Codex  
**** ** **Combat  
**** ** **Enemies  
**** ** **Environment  
**** ** **Equipment  
**** ** **Inventory  
Items  
**** ** **Levels  
**** ** **Magic  
**** ** **Map  
**** ** **Options  
**** ** **Party  
**** ** **Perks  
**** ** **Proficiency  
**** ** **Quests  
**** ** **Side Quests  
**** ** **Skills  
**** ** **Stats  
**** ** **Stat Points  
**** ** **Tutorial  
Weapons  
**** ** **Window Management  
**** ** **Vocal** **Assistance****

There were so many things Doumar wanted to say about this thing just suddenly appearing. None of the words he was going to use were very appropriate.

His personal feelings aside, when his eyes settled on 'Weapons', he pushed passed through the pain and selected it. A very difficult thing to do when your trying to keep a two legged worm from burrowing through your jugular.

 **Weapons  
An item you wield in your hands with the express purpose of damaging an individual or object. These can vary from the practical, to the unconventional, or the downright silly if it interests you. Either from a distance or close quarters, if damage is primarily caused by what is held in your hands, it is a weapon. Regardless if that was its intended use or not. The damage of a weapon is dependent on a number of variables. The actual physical condition it is in, what materials it was forged from, if it is being properly used, and so on and so forth. There is a vast number of types of weapons that can be further identified and categorized in the Codex. Weapons can be selected from the Inventory window.**

Skiming through the words as quickly as possible, Doumar reached the last line from the paragraph.

"Inventory!" Yelling may have been ridicules in normal circumstances, but damn it if Doumar was unwilling to drop conman curtecys to save his life.

Replacing the window was one that Doumar had never seen before. It was strange, full of box's with images of items. Only two were filled in. One that looked distinctly similar to the bag that his sister had given him this morning. And the other that had a dagger in it.

A dagger that was rusted unbelievably so.

Spending no time to think about that minor detail, Doumar reached out with his hand. Interacting with the windows brought out results before, so why not see if it worked this time as well?

He would die if it didn't work. He would most likely die if it did work. So what exactly did he have to lose.

Granted he was still surprised when his arm sunk into the blue box. His fingers brushing up against something distinctly solid. Grabbing whatever he was holding, Doumar pulled his arm pack. What came out was the rusted dagger he had mysteriously lost at some point during the day.

Another question that had to be saved for later. Ideally when he wasn't about to be someones lunch.

With the dagger in his hand, he went about using it the only way a sharpened piece of metal was to be used. By driving it repeatedly into the deepstalkers own neck until it was dead.

A gurgled screeched left its circular mouth, muffled by having its mouth still on Doumar's neck. Apparently having pointy things sliding through ones skin so easily was a discomforting experience. Now it knew how he had felt. In an attempt to get away from the thing that was causing the deepstalker pain, it released its hold on Doumar and pulled its head back.

It would have worked, if the dagger had not gone in mid stab at the same time. Putting far more effort into getting away than it should have, with Doumar desperately holding onto the only semblance of protection he had was a devastating combination.

As it pulled its head back, the blade simply slid from its current position all the way until it left past its mouth.

 **Critical Hit!**

 _New box. Not the right time to think about it. Focus on the enemy._

It was a lethal mistake the deepstalker had made on its part. Blood easily flowed from the large wound. It thrashed away, unable to deal with the overwhelming amount of pain the deepstalker surely should have been in.

Another one down. Now to take care of the other worm on his leg.

Doumar brought his attention back to the other little vermin, who had stopped nibbling on his leg to see what had gotten his brethren so rowdy all of a sudden. Its curiosity was met with a kick to the face. Now dazed, it wasn't too difficult to cut up the vulnerable deepstalker.

As quickly as he was capable of Doumar picked myself up. The adrenaline had momentarily made him forget that he had some skin on one of my legs bitten off. When Doumar tried to put some weight on the injured limb, he stumbled to his knees, unable to support himself. Doumar was unlucky enough that his leg had received more damage than he had initially thought. Getting back up wasn't too difficult, but now he was fully aware that his movement would far more limited than it was safe to be.

Doumar hadn't taken too long to stand, but that had all been the time that was needed for him to lose the small advantage that he had made. The deepstalker had gotten enough of a breather to get back its bearings. Needless to say it wasn't all to happy with Doumars actions.

It hissed at Doumar. Whether angry about the death of its sibling or simply agitated by the interruption to his meal the dwarf had caused was anyone's guess. Either way, it was now wary of Doumar. If it were even possible considering how on edge the thing already had been. The only reason it had attacked him in the first place was because it had had numbers on its side. Now that it wasn't the case anymore plus Doumar showing he was capable of fighting back made the worm headed creature much more cautious.

The fight was now evenly matched. Even as hurt as he was, Doumar still had a weapon in hand that could do quick work of the little critter. The deepstalker itself was in good health, but was still relatively green when it came to a fight. Doumar wasn't much better off, but it was still enough to make a difference.

 _Never thought I'd be thankful for all those unwanted fights I had always gotten into because of Leske. I might buy the guy a drink after this. Assuming I live long enough to reach Orzammar._

Having built back up its courage , the deepstalker let out another hiss as it lowered its head closer to the ground. It was going to work for its meal. Doumar on his end wasn't going to sit idly by and let himself be eaten. He raised the rusty dagger up, just as ready to fight for his life.

With no real plan in mind, the deepstalker charged Doumar. He himself had no real idea what he was going to do so he did the most natural thing at the moment. Swing the dagger and hope for the best.

Doumar half tripped/half lunged at his opponent. His attack was far from perfect, horrible really, and if anyone with any decent amount of training had been around they would have said the same thing. Still, it was enough.

Inexperience, possibly hunger, and most definitely luck had made the strike aim true. Strait through the eye, past the Brain (assuming it was near the eyes) and out the other end. With the now dead body still holding its initial momentum, it fell unmajestically in front of Doumars feet.

 **Critical Hit!**

Right then and there, it was dead. To say Doumar was surprised would be an understatement. Even with his limited experience in mind, Doumar had seen that sort of ending to a fight. While he wasn't complaining about a quick end to the life or death situation as he had been, this was a bit much. In his mind, a lucky strike like that shouldn't have been possible.

Maybe he wasn't as unlucky as he had initially thought.

A hiss brought back Doumar's attention to the world around him.

 _Another hiss? But I had just killed all three-. Oh. Right. Four deepstalkers. Which means..._

The box that accompanied the noise all but confirmed the there was still in fact something trying to kill him.

 **You detect malice.**

Turning his head was enough for him to see the slowly approaching critter. As it turns out, the last and only deepstalker around would be the strongest of them.

Maybe he was as unlucky as he had initially thought.

He pulled at the dagger's hilt, getting ready for another fight that was most definitely going to happen. Or he tried to anyway. Turn's out shoving something through a creature's skull ( _do deepstalker's even have skulls?_ ) haphazardly had a possibility of it getting stuck in there.

Doumar started to pull on the handle much harder now. The dagger was the only kind of protection he had. Considering that the particular deepstalker he would be dealing with, the most intelligent of the bunch Doumar gathered, it would be downright suicidal to be unarmed. And being essentially crippled, running wasn't an option.

Every second Doumar spent trying to unsheathe the dagger was another step the deepstalker made. In distance _and_ confidence.

Finally becoming desperate enough to throw caution to the wind, Doumar picked up his good leg and placed it on top of the dead deepstalkers head to get some leverage. This caused a wave of pain to spike through his other leg. Ignoring the fire in his lower leg, Doumar pulled his hardest once more.

It was enough. With a loud pop, the dagger slipped out of bloody meat hole it had been stuck in. With a good chunk of the blade missing. Seams that the rusted piece of metal had finally gave, unable to deal with the sudden amount of strain it had been put through. Considering the number of years of mistreatment it must have gone through, it had been a miracle it had lasted as long as it did.

 _Oh, come on!_

That important point aside, it was still an unfortunate turn of events. For Doumar anyway. The deepstalker on the other hand was all too pleased to see its prey had become weaponless.

Voicing a screech that couldn't have been misinterpreted as one of victory, it leaped. This time, Doumar hadn't been lucky enough or fast enough to avoid the attack. All he had managed to do was face his incoming assailant.

Grabbing hold of Doumar as their body's connected, the deepstalker was unwilling to let its prey escape when it was so close and weak. Going in for the killing blow, its circular maw reached for Doumar's face.

Out of reflex rather than actual conscious thought, Doumar raised his unarmed hand to prevent such a thing. His reward was a mauled hand with a strong jawed deepstalker holding onto it.

Having no real choice in the matter, Doumar began plunging the now broken dagger into the deeptalker. It wasn't proving quite as successful as before. The deepstalker had been paying attention to what happen happening through the course of this encounter. Every time Doumar aimed for a vital spot such as the eyes, the creature deftly moved its head out of the way.

Proving too stubborn to let go, this ended up mutilating Doumar's hand further since doing so also moved its teeth that were still tightly shut on his hand. More pain and what most definitely would be another major injury.

Things were not going so well for Doumar at this point. Having several open wounds on his body was taking a tole on him. The amount and the rate at which he was was losing blood was far too high. His movements were becoming slow as the fight dragged on. Doumar was being tired out. Soon enough he would be unable to defend himself. Escaping had been out the question far earlier.

And the deerstalker knew this. In fact, it had been counting on it most likely. If he thought about it, it was a great plan, if albeit a simple one. Send the grunts out to tire out the prey. Then, when it was too weak to put up a proper fight, you go in for the kill.

Impressive. For a supposedly mindless animal it was quite a feat. It was such a shame then that Doumar was at the receiving end of such a plan.

Too bad it had been a rather poor place to enact said plan.

During there struggle, Doumar was steadily losing more and more ground, stumbling around as the deepstalker being on top of him was messing with his balance. Evidently, this was inadvertently sending them in a bit of an important direction. Mostly backwards. Right where the edge of the cliff was.

One step had been all it had taken for the dwarf and underground animal to slip down into the pit. A few moments later, an audible thud was all that followed.

Silence.

Other than the corpses that decorated the cavern, there was no sign of what had transpired. But then, what could only be identified as form of magic, a ray of light appeared. Second latter, the light disappeared. Leaving only of partially humanoid figure behind.

Standing no taller than the average elf, the stranger was quite the unique individual. It was only semi solid, being partially see through. The matirial the made the creature was strange. Instead of an aura with form, the being was made from squares. These squares varied in color. Red. Blue. Violet. Yellow. Black. White. Green. Orange. Brown. Literally every conceivable color.

A spirit. But one that had never before been seen on this side of the veil.

It stepped forward, nary a sound made as it walked. As if it wasn't really there. Eventually, it reached the edge of the cliff that Doumar had fallen down just moments before.

It was still. Unmoving. Minutes passed before the spirit reacted. When it did, it spoke with an ethirial voice. One that reverberated of the cavern walls, not dissimilar to an echo or chorus of whispering people.

'Sigh'

"Not a day goes by and already one of my toys is trying to break itself."

Its disappointment was almost poring out of their mouth. Leaning forward ever so slightly, the being peered into the dark pit. For a mortal man, there wouldn't have been much to see. The area beyond the cliff was brimming with darkness, enough that whatever was at the bottom was hidden from all to see.

But this spirit was no mortal man.

"Hmm. He hasn't left the land of the living yet. Close. But not quite."

A faint humming filed the underground. A set of low and high pitched notes, intermingling in a way that was utterly chaotic. And yet perfectly harmonious. As this alien melody continued, a soft aura enveloped the corpses that littered the floor. Without a twitch of its finger, the spirit lifted the corpses into the air. Who else but the only living creature present was responsible for the magical display happening at this moment?

A moment later, the dead bodies of the young deepstalkers were thrown into the pit. Following in their siblings tracts.

"Be thankful dwarf. This will be the one and only time I will help you. It is far too early for you to disappoint me."

Its work now done, the being straitened their postior and turned away from the cliff. Walking away as if its good deed had never happened. With each step taken, the spirit slowly but surly, began dissipate from the feet one hand across it chin, mimicking a contemplative matter, the spirit began to think.

"May haps I should invest in some spares. It wont do if the source of my entertainment were to spontaneously die on me. As unlikely as that may be, there had been a reason for how things had gone initially."

Now only the beings hand and head remained.

"Besides, those twins I've met recently are quite eye catching indeed. They may prove to be just as interesting on there own."

With those final words, the spirit fully disappeared. The Deep Roads, a place full of taint and danger, was left desolate once more.

* * *

 **If you've read my The Monster Gamer Fic, I would like you to know I'll be alternating between the two as much as I can. Re:Monster is much easier since I just need to add a little fluff to the main story. Dragon age on the other hand requires for me to come up with my own plot initiatives.**

 **Something that I have yet to perfect.**

 **Regardless, I apologies for the wait an will do my best to have at least one chapter out per month. Ideally I'll have more coming along the better I get at this.**

 **['w']b**


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